


On the Border

by Ricky B (littletoes101)



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-07 22:57:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littletoes101/pseuds/Ricky%20B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(The ghost moon sails among the clouds, turns the rifles into silver, on the border...) The seaside town of Kamukura became the safe haven that Mondo Oowada's brother took him to when they had nowhere else to go, and now a childhood friend of his, Kiyotaka Ishimaru, has turned up, bleeding and injured on the border of the town. Once he wakes from his unconscious stupor, he reveals that the safe haven won't be safe for much longer. Determined to keep the world his brother built for him intact, Mondo prepares to fight the coming Monochromes, an army created by Junko Enoshima, her target being Daiya himself. [Mondo-centric fic, main pairs Ishimondo and Daiykuro]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fishing Boats

_April, 2003_

Violet eyes, wide and panicked, looked around frantically for a place to hide. Clutching his five-year-old brother to his chest, fifteen-year-old Daiya Oowada dove for cover under a bush, pushing the younger under him. Mondo went to say something, to whimper his displeasure, but the absolutely terrified look on his brother's face stopped him. He was young, and didn't know much, but he knew just how bad his situation was.

Lights blared, and people yelled, but Daiya was quiet as a mother cat, letting Mondo grip his coat as he crawled forward. Now was not the time to panic. Looking left and right, Daiya finally stood and bolted, still keeping his brother in his arms. His cover had been blown, what with all the noise he was making, and the barking of dogs could be heard as he ran as fast as he could. He was nearly out of breath and energy, but he couldn't stop now. He had to keep two lives in mind, after all.

If only he'd never gotten into trouble with the Yakuza. If only he'd kept quiet about the murders. If only he hadn't ran. If only, if only, if only.

The bus stop was in sight, and, thank God, the bus was _there_. It was starting up, starting to leave, but by pure luck, Daiya burst out of the woods, probably looking like some kind of feral child, but he didn't give a fuck at this point. He wanted to _live_ , God dammit, and he was so close. He banged on the bus door with his cracked and bleeding knuckles, and Mondo hid his face in Daiya's chest. The driver opened up the door and looked down at him, and Daiya nearly cried;

“Please, please take us, oh God, I have fare I swear just let us on _please_.” The driver nodded, and Daiya clambered on as fast as he could, shoving fare at the driver and running off towards the back. The bus rumbled and started off, and the bewildered faces of his pursuers stared up at him as he looked out of the window.

They were safe. Thank the Lord, they were safe. Holding Mondo on his lap, Daiya leaned back against the seat and started to cry. Mondo, still mostly confused and frightened, started crying too.

They were safe.


	2. Evening Water

It had been ten years since then, and now a different fifteen-year-old was in the same trouble. Torn up and bleeding, Kiyotaka Ishimaru panted audibly, dragging one leg behind him as he half-limped, half-ran to the fence that separated him from freedom. Dogs barked in the distance, but they weren't chasing him this time. Still, the noise made him jump, and he gripped the fence as if it was the last thing he had to live for. Voices sounded, and Ishimaru yelped, starting to heave himself over the fence. Although he'd been bullied for being something of a “nerd”, his upper body strength had to be incredible, as he could only use one of his legs at the moment.

Flinging himself over the five-foot fence, Ishimaru tumbled down the side of the ditch that was hidden by bushes on the other side of the fence, falling into the bottom and lying completely still. There was some rattling at the fence as his pursuers spoke in loud, deep voices.

“Which way did the brat go?”

“I don't see 'im on the other side. Mebbe he ran along the fence?”

“Let's follow it, we'll probably find him.”

“Even if we don't, the next town don't come up for, what, five miles? As sick as the kid is, he'll probably die.”

Although their words were bleak, Ishimaru was completely still and silent, just like a statue. He had to be, if he wanted to live. He must've lied there for an hour, perhaps a little more than that, before he thought it safe to move. Heaving himself out of the ditch, Ishimaru limped over to a large puddle to examine himself. His forehead was cut and bleeding, and he had blood all over his white uniform. His boots were muddy and ragged, and there was mud on his uniform as well. A lump welled up in his throat, and he felt like crying, but he forced himself not to. What would his mother say?

Shaking, he looked into the woods ahead of him. Five miles. Five miles separated him from complete sanctuary. Those men knew nothing, Ishimaru laughed to himself as he limped on. He must've walked and ran a thousand miles by now. Coughing into his fist, he continued his seemingly endless journey, the bright light of the moon casting a silver glow on the evening water.


End file.
